


Through the mist

by Pendule



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Ghosts, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, but there's hope ya'll, it's not as bad as it sounds, there's blood though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25426540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pendule/pseuds/Pendule
Summary: Five knows what his siblings are about to go through. He trusts them, but knows that they might not be the same when he’ll see them on the other side.Or what happens to the Hargreeves siblings when they time travel right before being wiped out by the moon’s debris.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	1. Five, the time traveller

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!  
> First of all, I'm a non-native English speaker, so I'm sorry if there's any mistakes.
> 
> Okay so,  
> I started writing this fic after watching season 1 one year ago, and then I somehow lost interest. Now that the season 2 is soon to be aired, I thought that I’d finish this fic up and post it right before the new season aired! It’s not much, but I hope you’ll still enjoy it!

Five knew what his siblings were currently experiencing, he had gone through this too. Crossing the portals of time and space could be one hell of an experience. He’d lived it countless times. Each time was different, with the exception of the sound. It mostly started by the voices. Familiar or unknown, calling, whispering or screaming. Yelling for something, yelling because it was the only thing they could do. Even though they weren’t real. All in the head. All in the portals.

Five had gotten the time to think about it, to understand what happened, why and how. After hours, it wasn’t hard to findmultipleexplanations. But he still hadn’t been able to choose between them. He always had two hypothesis competing. The first one was that this place was full of lost souls. Of those who had lost themselves in the portals, leaving their very life and body. Entities only made of souls screaming for help. But he doubted that so many folks had walked through the gates at the bad timing. So it meant that people who had a score to settle with were stuck in the continuum as well. Which explained why some of the voices had been known, and that they knew him. Maybe some were even here because of him, who knows? This was his first hypothesis.

The second one wasn’t so different from the first one with the exception that it was less horrible and frightening for the “lost souls” of the 1st theory. His idea was that all the voices, the apparitions, were from the traveller’s brain and memories. Which meant that everyday they carried the weight of lives and souvenir with them, and that once in there, everything exploded and the feelings they tried to bury deep down in themselves reappeared, at the risk of leaving them drained and desperate from all the emotions they’d lived. This could be very dangerous. Five himself had bore the cost of it more than once.

He had a partner once, back when he worked for The Commission. They had been stuck in the continuum due to a defective briefcase. He was used to it, because it was his ability after all, he’d went there, in the mist, he called it, since his earliest childhood. But his partner hadn’t been used to it. The hallucinations had started quickly, after three or four travel. It took over him one day, not even leaving the time to Five to review the situation, because already his partner had collapsed on the ground, screaming, squirming on the “ground”, and gasping for air. Thankfully the briefcase had worked again at that time and they had been extracted. His partner had never recovered. Five had never seen him after that. Never knew if this was because of The Commission or himself.

So yeah. He knew how others must feel in the mist. He just hoped that it wouldn’t do too much damage to his siblings. They would face their biggest fears, run out of breath in vain, apologise to deaf-like ghosts that weren’t even there, and they would fall of exhaustion. When all of this would have happened, then maybe they would be able to reach the chosen destination Five had pinned.

He knew that Klaus would be the one to most likely stand the ordeal. He was used to the screaming and endless complaints after all. But Five just hoped that it wouldn’t be his breaking point. He believed in him. For the others, well it was another kettle of fish. But they were his siblings, they had been raised by the same asshole, all lived awful lives. Voices wouldn’t break them when life hadn’t been able to. Five trusted them, all he had to do was wait for them to pass through the mist, and join him on the other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo I hope you liked it!
> 
> I actually have two siblings written and completed, which is why I put only three chapters, but maybe if you enjoy it I'll write the others, let me know!
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos, it's always good when people give their thoughts on the fics and interact!


	2. Diego

At the beginning it was all black. He couldn’t hear nor feel anything. It took time before he understood what was happening or more precisely, where he was. He had never really talked with Five about his powers -in fact, he had hardlyspoken to anyone during his youth because of his stammer, and Five had left when he had started to get rid of it- but he had always wondered how they worked.

Even though he didn’t show it, Diego was highly interested in his sibling’s abilities, which had led to long nights where he’d thought about it for hours. _‘_ _If Klaus is able to talk to the dead, does that mean that he is, in a way, dead?’_ or ‘ _Could Allison be able to use her “I heard a rumo_ _u_ _r” on herself?’_ **.** That kind of stuff. So, yeah, it wasn’t a surprise that he’d thought about Five’s abilities as well. He might as well admit that his disappearance had even “aroused his curiosity” more. Curiosity, envy, but mostly pain. He had been so scared that something had happened to him. Five sure was cheeky, sarcastic and sometimes obnoxious, but he never had really laughed at him. No teasing comments on his diction, nothing to remember him that he was only “Number 2” and no excessive reproach during missions. Even when they had the same age, Five was the maturest.

Yes, everyone had missed Five, and this had made Diego think even more about what his brother could or couldn’t do. He had passed so many nights wondering whether he had ran away, finally getting rid of the whole academy and their abusive father, or if something had happened to him. Something linked to the skills. He had imagined what happened when he used the portal, what was in, where he was during these microseconds of “teleportation”. He had always imagined it big, endless, and white. Something utterly terrifying if you were stuck in, but not that bad if you were only passing through.

So yeah, this wasn’t such a shock for him. Well, the surprising part of it was that the “place” wasn’t white. No, it was pitch black. And now that he was in front of it, or rather in it, he did wondered why he never had envisaged it that way. This seemed so much more true, real, and eerie. He extended his hands, as to touch the “walls”, but there were none. Instead it felt like he extended his hands endlessly, in fact, he could barely see them because of the darkness. He stopped, understanding that it was useless and that he probably wouldn’t get out that way.

‘What were my plans back when I thought I might be stuck here one day?’, he whispered to himself. He remembered that he’d thought that it would be really important for him to keep his energy. Maybe he would need it to move fast at a point, maybe to run toward the end of the portal. He heard a voice in his head, a kid. ‘The most important thing is to stay calm, if I let the panic overwhelm me, I’m dead’. Diego snorted. The sentence in itself was great, but the end was a little bit pessimistic. He clearly hadn’t planned to die that way. Not after what had happened today. Anyway. Right now he was trying not remember the danger his young-self had imagined. He would take his advice on the procedure, but would avoid the speculations. He clearly didn’t need it.

He sighed deeply. At least he could easily breathe. He tried to focus on something in the “room”. He couldn’t focus on his own thoughts, they would wander back to the instructions, and he had had enough for now. No, instead he focused on the silence of the place. There was no sound except for his breathing and the pounding of his heartbeat. His eyes were closed tightly and he was sat cross-legged. It was getting hotter, wasn’t it? He opened his eyes again. In front of him, the black was slowly growing red. A dark and intense red. It looked sticky. He knew that tint, that substance. Getting up quickly, he was fast, stepping backward clumsily.

Blood.

It was blood.

All over the “floor”.

All over the “wall”.

Flowing, falling from the ceiling, all around him. The smell invading his nostrils, that metallic scent he could recognise amongst thousands of others. This was the first thing he noticed before everything went off.

The voices started to rise, it wasn’t a whisper, not low or loud, no, it was screams, literal yells. Hands started to emerge from everywhere, all around him, trying to grab him and to pull at his clothes. He was struggling, each time he got rid of a hand, a new pair came up from the same place. It seemed to be endless. His clothes were stained, mostly by blood, but there was mud as well and all sort of things that he didn’t want to know the name of. All voices were mixed up together, forming a long and horrible lamentation. He couldn’t hear each words but he could distinct the ones that came the most. ‘Coward, you gave us up, murderer, everything’s your fault’.He was overwhelmed, trying desperately to escape, to put his hands on his ears to stop the constant hubbub, fruitlessly.

Then a hand grabbed him by the throat. It lifted him, freeing him from the deadly grips. Sinking back from where they came, the voices stopped and the silence took its place. The only thing left was thishand around his throat, threatening, its owner hid by the darkness. Diego calmed himself a little, but not for long because he realised that the grip had lifted him from the ground so that his feet were swinging in the air. He was starting to suffocate a little.

‘Diego…’

He recognised that voice.

‘Eudora…?’, he tried to say, air leaving his lungs even faster

‘You let me down, Diego…’

‘No no no n-o n-o’

‘You let me down… I died because of you’

‘No n-o Eu-d-dora, no, I’m s-s-so-rry’

He was choking on his words, the lack of air starting to make itself felt. Tears were running down his cheeks and he was sobbing furiously, trying desperately to grab the arm and the hand that was tightened around his throat. With a violent impulse, he managed to escape to the hold and he fell on the ground, his body collapsing, exhausted. He instinctively wrapped his left hand around his throat in a protective movement, his right arm wrapping around his abdomen.

He could still feel her presence in front of him, hid in the dark part of the room. What was he supposed to do? And then she came out of it. Blood flooding through the hole in her chest. He met her gaze, and it broke his heart. She looked terrified. Lost in the middle of all these crazy and angry soul.

‘Diego…?’

This time she looked real. So real that Diego hastily got up, trying to grab her extended hand. But each time he made a step in her direction, the “ghosts” pushed her back towards them. He wanted to pull her to his side, hug her, comfort her. He wanted to tell her that this was over, that she was safe and that she wouldn’t have to be scared and alone ever again. But instead he choked on his words, stammering violently.

‘I-I-I am s-so s-s-so-rry, f-f-forg-iv-ve m-me Eu-d-dora’

He used his last strength to jump, to grab her before they took her but it was too late, as soon as he was on her, they had all disappeared. Nothing and no one was here anymore. Tears were strolling down his face. He could feel the rough and cold surface of the concrete ground under him, scrapping his knees. He sat, trying to calm himself. But he couldn’t. He brought his legs against his chest and wrapped his arms around it. He probably looked weak and pathetic right now, but he was wrecked. Dad and Luther would have probably laughed at him if they saw him in such a state, but he didn’t care anymore. Dad was dead and Luther probably was too. The thought hit him. If Luther was dead, then it meant that all his other siblings were dead too. Maybe he had been incapable of saving them, just like Eudora. Maybe it was his fault, even. It probably was. It always was.

His sobbing intensified. In fact, he was even suffocating, the tears and snot flowing from his nose making him incapable of breathing from it. As for his throat, a lump was blocking it. Panic started to flood in him. He couldn’t breathe. He could feel how empty his lungs were. His throat tightening around nothing. He collapsed to the ground, his hands desperately trying to grab something, someone, anything. Diego’s brain was overwhelmed by information. How could he stop the suffocation? Fuck. He couldn’t die like that, it was such a stupid death. Alone, miserable.

His mind raced and raced for what could have been seconds just like it could have been hours, before his throat loosened. He tentatively opened his mouth to breathe, but nothing came in. He had no air in his lungs, they were still empty, even though minutes had passed. But it didn’t hurt. He was still conscious, still alive, but no breathing. He realised that he had had a panic-attack, maybe he was passed out and this was some sort of dream? What the fuck.

He calmed himself, pinching his own arm to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming. He wasn’t. He frowned as he decided to hold his breath. He felt no pain as no air entered his lungs. This made him realise that it hadn’t been the idea of not being able to breathe that had made him panic, in fact, but rather the idea of suffocating to death, here, alone, in that empty white room. He tentatively placed a hand around his throat, blocking his airways. He placed his other hand against his nose, blocking his nostrils as well. There was no way he could've breathed, so he counted in his head. After 30 seconds, he gave up. He could definitely stay alive without breathing. He stayed sat there, staring into space, integrating the news. And then he burst into laughter. A nervous one. But he couldn’t stop. ‘I can’t fucking believe it’. He paused. ‘That’s the shittiest power I’ve ever seen’. If that was a new power, then it definitely was the most useless one ever. What could he do with that? Absolutely nothing. It was ridiculous, the whole situation was ridiculous.

He was laughing so much, holding his stomach tightly, tears almost prickling to his eyes. And then he fell. Under him, the ground gave out and he free fell. He wasn’t feeling good, his ears were buzzing, his head was spinning, and even though he didn’t need to breathe anymore, he still felt out of breath. His body seemed to slow down as he felt hands grazing over him again. He sighed, not wanting to revive any of it. But instead of the tough grips he’d felt minutes before, they were just hovering over him, at safe distance. Slowly, he opened his eyes as he felt a lukewarm palm against his cheek. His eyes met Eudora’s calm ones. His heart skipped a bit, but she didn’t gave him the time to say a thing. She rested her forehead against his, fingertips tracing his cheekbones and the bags under his eyes. ‘You look tired’, she whispered. ‘Please, take care of you, Diego’, -he leaned into her tough- ‘do that for me. It’s going to be okay, I promise you, things will get better’. Diego had no idea what she was talking about but he simply nodded, enjoying her presence, the warmth of her hand, and the softness in her voice.

But he couldn’t stay here forever, of course, and slowly, she stepped back. He wanted to hold her back, say something, but the look on her face stopped him. A small smile, a genuine one, was grazing her features, and peaceful eyes watched him start to fall again. Before he lost sight of her, a last murmur reached his ears, ‘It’s okay, I’m not mad at you, Diego. Live for me, don’t join me so soon, Diego’. The latter smiled for only answer, his voice unable to form words.

He fell for a little bit longer, this time, but he didn’t really pay much attention to it, thinking about Eudora’s last words. The landing took him out of his thoughts, though. And as he landed on a dull ground, eyes suddenly blinded by the sunlight, voices reached his ears. It was his siblings’. Suddenly realising that he was out of the white mist he’d been prisoner of, he got up.


	3. Klaus, The King of The Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so here is the last chapter, I hope you'll enjoy it!

Five wasn’t the talkative type, sure, Klaus could understand that. But he had to admit that he would have liked if Five had warned them about what happened when you used the portals. Warned about these lengthy minutes of latency. This silence that seemed to fill his very ears and invade his head. Just as if the silence was a sound, such a heavy and omnipresent note. He might as well could have warned them about the white. How everything was so fucking white, so much that even when Klausshut his eyes he could see it through the darkness of his eyelids. ‘ _Five you little shit_ _‘,_ he thought. He had tried to say it out loud, unsuccessfully. There was no sound here except for the constant buzzing of the silence. "Fuck", he had no other choice than to wait and hope that he wasn’t actually stuck in the continuum space-time. Might end up badly, that.

He started to hear voices. He was used to it so at the beginning he didn’t mind it. But then it started to be really loud, as if it was getting closer and closer. In the end it felt like the voices were floating all around his head, brushing past his ears. At first he couldn’t really discern the words, just distant mumbling that seemed somewhat aggressive. Then it became louder and louder, heavy on his mind, and that was the only thing he could hear, the buzzing having disappeared.

The only thing he could do was to put his hands against his ears, to try to block the sound of the voices. He squeezed as much as he could, so much that he could feel the pressure of his palms on the very top of his jaw, could feel the scream escaping from his mouth as his eyes were tightly shut.

Then he felt himself falling. Just like when you’re slowly starting to fall asleep and you have the sensation that you’re free-falling. But when you open your eyes you’re peacefully tucked in your bed. He opened his eyes, hoping that this would be the case. It wasn’t.

He definitely was free-falling, silhouettes floating around him, trying to rip his sleeves, to grab his arms. And for once he tried to help them, tried to grab their hands, unsuccessfully. Instead he kept falling, feeling the void behind his back while he was facing the “ceiling” that looked smaller seconds after seconds. It felt interminable. Maybe it was were he would pass the rest of his “life”. He wondered for a moment if he wouldn’t have prefered being with all the voices he had heard previously.

Something hit him. Not physically, but mentally. Even though he rubbed shoulders with dead people since his earliest childhood, he had never thought about being one himself one day. He had never really thought about being a ghost himself. He hadn’t gotten the time to grow used to their presence because he had quickly understood that he could escape them with some booze & shit. In hindsight, he might could have given them a chance, if “dad” had brought things differently and helped him dealing with it instead of locking him up in a fucking mausoleum. But no, that asshole had to act like the stubborn bitch he was. And now look where it had gotten him. Falling into the void, stuck into something that might be the continuum space-time but maybe not, trying to go back to the future to stop the apocalypse triggered by his sister’s powers that had always supposedly been powerless. Yeah, might not be the best situation ever.

He took a deep breath. ‘Okay, breathe and think’, he thought. ‘The dead never tried to hurt you, they can’t, they’re ghosts and you’re alive.’, he repeated to himself, breathing. Slowly, he calmed his respiration and closed his eyes, imagining that he was in a nice bed. No, a bed wasn’t actually that funny nor really realistic. No, instead he thought about levitating. ‘Yeah, seems nice, no need to walk, no one could catch me up there and I could do whatever I want’, he thought again.

There he was, not falling anymore, he even was retracing his “steps”. Floating back to where he was before the big fall. This time ghosts were surrounding him, silent. None of them seemed to want to touch him. He felt oddly soothed. He reached the top of the “ceiling”, literally going through it, and collapsed into the “ground”, exhausted. Rubbing his face with his hands, he noticed that he had lost his shoes. Maybe during the leap into the void, or maybe even before, he couldn’t remember, and, to be honest, he didn’t really care.

He wanted to lie down but couldn’t, maybe his siblings were in danger, right? He couldn’t get up alone, though. There was a chair in the “room”, but it was too far for him to reach it. He sighed, slamming his left fist against the ground. ‘Come ON’, he screamed, frustrated. He looked up, searching for anything else but realised that the chair was closer. It was, right? ‘What the fuck’. He looked at it, wishing that it would get even more closer. And it did. It moved. The chair slid on the ground, stopping just before hitting his head. He frowned. ‘Okay, yeah, I just fell in the void after all, why not this. Fuck’. If only he could get on that chair.

Then, slowly, he felt his body floating. He looked around but nothing was lifting him. He closed his eyes. ‘Okay’, he whispered.Maybe he could get on that chair, after all. He shut his eyes tightly. He thought furiously about getting on it. He opened his eyes, and noticed that he wasn’t quite on the chair but levitating above the ground. He tried to move his body a little but he fell, his flank violently hitting the wooden arm of the chair. ‘Holy FUCK that shit hurts’, he whined.

Catching his breath, he closed his eyes again, inhaling deeply. ‘One..’, he said, concentrating. He felt his head lifting from the ground, so he kept thinking about what he wanted and breathed calmly. His whole body followed slowly, limb after limb. He waited like that a few minutes, just to be sure that he was controlling his body and emotions. Then, when he opened his eyes, he swiftly fell in the chair, careful not to hit the armrest this time. When he was sure to be well-sat, he allowed himself to exhale deeply.

Then, the chair started to levitate too. He started to go up, as it seemed that there weren’t any ceiling in here. He drifted, wondering if he was dreaming or if everything was real. After all the previous events had seemed so unreal, so why not this? And then his head hit something. He opened his eyes, rubbing his head. He took a closer look at what he had hit. ‘Well, looks like there’s a ceiling finally’, he said, narrowing his yes. He chuckled softly at that, this was useless but he was still happy to see that he had been able to lift his own weight + a chair in the air. He squinted, noticing something on the ceiling not so far away. He moved the chair, his bare-feet dangling in thin air. The more he drew closer, and the more he realised that the thing was, in fact, a drawing. He recognised the strokes. It was a drawing he had done when he was a kid.

He could make out the sketch. He was around 6, standing in his uniform, smiling widely. Next to him were Ben who was sulking, and Diego who was smiling from ear to ear. He had drawn a building exploding behind them and you could easily distinguish one of Five’s portals in the background. The drawing and the memory itself made him smile softly. Ben and Diego always had been his favourites in the family. This wasn’t surprising at all since Luther and Allison were always stuck together, Five was on his own and they never included Vanya. He had a heartache at the thought, they had been so fucking stupid. So, yeah, in the end they were most of the time just the three of them. Sometimes Diego stayed alone or went cooking with Mom, and sometimes Five joined their small group, but that was all. Come to think, he had some happy childhood memories, sure they weren’t that interesting and there wasn’t a lot, but it still made him happy.

He frowned. What was doing this drawing here, stuck on that really high ceiling? He did something stupid. He looked down. He looked at the ground and realised that it was blurry. He started to panic, he was so high. If he fell, he died. And for once in his life, he didn’t want to die. He wanted to live, to save and help his family. He wanted to apologise to Vanya, to hug her. He wanted to be able to bring Ben back, to give Five a semblance of adolescence. He wanted to hug Diego and help him take away the pain of his lost one. Maybe he could learn more about Allison, make up for lost time. Maybe with Luther as well. Maybe this time they would all give him his chance. And if they gave him one, there was no way he would miss it. Not again.

He realised that he was trembling as he raised his hands. Slowly, his fingers touched the small silhouettes drawn on the yellowing paper and he was once again swamped by whiteness. He sighed, he didn’t want to go through a weird empty room again. But he was already being transported. And as he was dropped onto the ground, he was surprised to hear voices. His siblings’ voices.

He opened his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is the end! It was fun to write!  
> I had planned on writing something for Allison and Ben too, but I didn’t quite get the inspiration for it, so here are these three chapters and that’s it!
> 
> Thank you for reading it,  
> Please leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed it!


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